The Bastard Letter

I always pictured that by my 30's I would have my shit together. I pictured that all aspects of my life would be on an upward trajectory and I'd have a solid foundation for my life's successful growth. However, in reality, I feel like I'm barely taking baby steps. Stumbling and wobbling through grown up shit and just about making it through. And it's not as if I haven't set myself goals in life, I have, but I've never felt the need to be accountable in reaching these goals. I thought that turning 30 would be my "come-to-jesus-moment" in my life and light a flame under my arse... It didn't. 31 went pass swiftly too. And as I approach 32, I think I'm beginning to wake up.
I'll add some context to all of this. I'm a 31 year old female from South East England, I'm employed full time as a Healthcare Professional, I live on my own and have an amazing family nearby. I'm overweight, my career is somewhat stagnant and I'm floundering a little. But I am happy. These problems are first world, and every day I am grateful for what I do have, but I know I can be a better person.
The funny thing that's triggered this "growth" that I feel is imminent was a letter from my bank. The little bastards noted that they've watched my bank account for 3 months and I seem to be using my overdraft the entire time. If they really took a good look they'd have noticed I've been in my overdraft for nearly 13 years. But hey, who's counting. HSBC are counting. So this note was followed up by the news that they're taking away my overdraft. I've had little letters of concern from my bank before, but this one hit different. It's got me spooked and made me realise I have to change my habits, a short term solution isn't going to fix this. I've tried for 13 years to get out of my overdraft, and I've never managed to.
So in looking at my finances under the microscope, I noticed some embarrassing shit along the way. In one month, I spent nearly £200 on McDonalds alone. And what's worse, noticing this only made me want a Big Mac more. Something I am proud of is that about 20% of this number was tips to my Uber Eats drivers.
Something's I've done in the past when I've had financial worries:

• Ignore them. Don't open the letters. Don't read the emails. Don't log in online. If one does make it's way into my hands, rip the bastard up.
• Don't tell anybody. Nobody wants to hear your money worries. You have zero reason to have money issues. You don't want to worry people.

Surprise! These don't work. I'm still a bit shit at opening mail, but I try and push myself to do it. It's never ever a nice letter, but it's not always bad news. And sometimes it is the bank telling you that they're taking your precious, precious overdraft.
I'm pretty good at holding myself together in stressful circumstances, it's part of my job. I've always put myself under unnecessary pressure, with the belief it yields better results... Or so I say. But financial worries really do get to me. It starts with a little nagging feeling in the back of my head, when I'm having every day conversations. I get *pings* of worry. Then that develops into the worries moving to the front of my thinking, everything I see is money. Even going to see my family, how much petrol will I need to get there and back? Do I need to pay to park? I'm employed with an average income, I don't think I'm meant to be worried about parking fees. And then the final stage of my worry is the "fuck it" stage. I will ignore all problems. In fact, I will counteract these with spending more. 

But this time I've tried to break the habit. Firstly, I haven't ignored it, and secondly, I've told people. I was actually on the phone to my sister when I opened The Bastard Letter (that's what we're calling it now). She tried to reassure me that it'll be fine and I think we then checked if we were getting a McDonalds. Then I spoke to my mum.. and she wanted a photo of the letter, probably because I muttered through most of it, trying to down-play it. I think hearing my mums concern and seriousness made me realise this isn't one of those "rip the letter up" moments.

And here we are, I'm writing about a bloody bank letter on a blog that won't be read. Because on the off chance, there'll be another person in a similar position panicking that they are the only person that cannot get their shit together. I feel like making each post about something I'm going to do to make myself better. It's quite self indulgent. I should probably just write this in a private diary. But here we are. You know my dirty McDonalds habit. It doesn't get much worse.. it does really. I'm not really ending this blog post with a plan or promises, because this is the beginning of my journey and I haven't got a fucking clue what I'm doing.